Lunchtime
by Witchsistah
Summary: Data learns the joys of quickies.


Lunchtime

Nzinga sat home in her quarters on one of her rarer nights alone since she and Data's relationship had, well, deepened. On top of his working the Beta shift, he was helping Engineering out with something or other. This actually gave Nzinga time to ruminate on their relationship so far.

*Gods! If someone had told me last year that I'd be deeply involved with a mechanical man, I'd have conducted them to the nearest mental-health ward. Hell, even six months ago I'd have seen this as an insane impossibility!*

But there she was now, in a real, loving, caring relationship with a great man (organic or not) enjoying the most, mind-blowing sex of her life. Unlike so many past lovers, Data liked to take his time with her. Her former paramours would either treat sex as a race to an orgasmic finish line (and tough shit for her if she didn't win) or drew out the procedings interminably thinking that duration alone made them good lovers. She had learned how to fake an orgasm like an accomplished courtesan in order to cut short the tedious procedings.

While Nzinga realized that she had very little to complain about in Data, especially in light of her past romantic debacles, there was one thing that pricked a little at her erotic sensibilities. Data didn't do quickies.

She had explained what they were and how they could be as sexually charged as their lingering, languid sex. Data said he understood how some beings could find them rewarding, but that he preferred to spend as much time in pleasuring as he was being pleasured now that he had someone he cared deeply about and the emotions to feel it all. He loved the details and savored them. Data relished every touch, taste, smell and sound.

" 'Skilled in multiple techniques—a broad range of pleasuring,' no shit!"

He wanted to prolong every moment. And he always made sure, in various ways, that he let her know that he was still with her even while he was giving her pleasure and even while she was making him moan, grunt, pant, and cry out. He would say loving or sexy things to her that were just for her. He would touch her in ways that let her know this was not just about physical release for him. He wanted to connect with her and wanted her to connect with him. The only thing that stopped them was her need to get some sleep so she wouldn't be a zombie during her shifts in Twelve Forward. And was she dissatified with their sex life? She hastily said that she was far from being dissatisfied with him or their sex life, and she let the matter go for the moment when Data began to demonstrate why she should **not** be unhappy.

She experienced orgasms she had only read about in erotica, trashy novels and Penthouse Forum letters. Even now, thinking about Data, what he did to her, with her was dampening the thin cotton panties she was wearing.

Nzinga could somewhat understand his distate for a little afternoon delight. The way he was introduced to the concept left much to be desired. His first time was basically a quickie with that Tasha Yar woman. The late Chief of Security then bluntly let Data know that there'd never be a repeat performance and denied the actual one even happened. And then there was that time with the Borg Queen which was also a quickie of the manipulative kind. To Data, quickies were a form of uncaring, cold and distant sex, for people who wanted merely physical release. They were a way of using another person as a sex object. She had been with men whose presence she felt leave her once they'd penetrated her. After that, they were all about busting their nut and the hell with her. She was just the masturbatory tool they were using at the time. Perhaps Data felt during their times together she had no choice but to be fully present, not just in body, but in mind and emotion as well.

But, she wanted him to realize that quickies could be just as wonderful and connecting in their own way between two people who felt as they did about one another. They had established a stable relationship. Surely, there was no issue of questionable motives or agendas now. They had taken everything quite slowly and seriously. Surely now they could play a little?

Nzinga made her decision and figured out when she would execute her plan.

She was excited the first half of her shift and impatient for Guinan to relieve her for lunch even though she knew she had another half-hour to go till then. When, fifteen minutes later, Guinan asked her what she'd like for lunch from the replicator, Nzinga replied in a cryptically flirtatious way that she was going OUT for lunch. Guinan merely looked at her, knowing well what she meant since the woman's relationship with a certain second officer was old news all over the ship.

"Well, don't be late coming back. I'd hate to have to call Cagan to sub for you, and I'm not working the rest of your shift!" Guinan warned in mock-menace. Nzinga looked at the chronometer behind the bar, let out a little squeal, promised she'd be back to resume her shift on time, and practically ran out the sliding doors of Twelve Forward.

She went to her quarters, changed her clothes, dressing quickly with particular care into an outfit she had chosen the night before and asked the computer for Data's whereabouts.

"Lieutenant Commander Data is currrently in Jeffries Tube 36-B, subjunction 8," answered the serene and authoritative female voice. Nzinga then asked for directions to that location from her quarters to be downloaded onto a padd for her to follow. No one would think anything of her with a padd in her hand now. When the computer finished its work, Nzinga exited her quarters.

Data was in the Jeffries Tube on his back with a transponder wrench in one hand and his tricorder in another repolarizing a connector to increase yield. Other assorted tools and a workbox were scattered around his head like the type of halo that would be perfect for an android saint. Even though he was officially off-duty, he had volunteered to help Engineering with various repairs and remodulations. Geordi had some new brain child of a configuration that he'd gotten in part from his correspondence with Dr. Leah Brahms. Data was doing his part to help his friend realize this particular vision. He was so buried in his work and calculating the various readings he was receiving that he did not notice Nzinga crawling towards him in the tube on all fours until she said, "There you are! I've been looking for you."

Data was surprised, to say the least, to see her there, "Zee? Is there anything wrong? Has there been an emergency?' he asked thinking those the only reasons he'd see his lover in a Jeffries Tube with him.

She kept crawling towards him. She didn't stop even when she reached his feet. "Now why does there have to be something wrong for me to come and see you on my lunch hour?" she said as she slid herself over and settled on top of him.

Data's eyes opened wide when he saw the come-hither look and surmised her intentions, "But, Zee, I cannot! I am—"

"You're not on duty." She began kissing his neck and heard him sigh. "This is supposed," *kiss* "to be" *kiss* "your **off** time." *nibble*

"But I am supposed to be…aaaaahhhhhhhh!" he exclaimed as she licked the rim of his ear. That always got his attention. She jokingly thought of telling him she didn't know he was part Ferengi. That silent taunt was answered by the feeling on her upper thigh through the material of her skirt of a distinct and pronounced bulge in the Commander's pants. Still Data tried to continue his explanations, "helping Geordi with his…oooooooooooooooooooooo!"

She had begun worrying the bulge by rubbing her thigh over it, back and forth. His breathing and speech were becoming unsteady, "reconfigurations to see… if his calculations were… correct and his thesis …could be …proven. He is…oooohhhhh…waiting for the results…of my efforts."

"Is the information time sensitive?"

"N-no. N-not really."

"Then he can wait a little longer for them," she began nibbling and sucking his neck in earnest. Data thought it fortunate that he did not get "hickeys."

"Besides… you are supposed …to be…. in Twelve Forward… having… lunch. Ughn!"

She was now squirming on top of him, grinding her pelvis into his, "I decided to eat out today!" Nzinga lowered her head and brought her lips to meet his. She made the little teasing butterfly kisses that set him on edge before she plundered his mouth. She was a good kisser, and Data loved kissing her. She darted her tongue between his yielding lips and his quickly responded to play with and entwine with hers. Data's hands, having dropped both tool and tricorder, clutched her close to him and the exploration of her body. He hungrily ran his hands down her back dislodging the shirt tucked into her skirt. He then ran them over the newly exposed flesh and raced them up until he felt her bra. This was one with a frontal closure so he whipped his hands to the front of her shirt and found, gratefully, a zipper instead of buttons. At least her anachronistic dress sense would not get in the way. He unzipped her shirt and unclasped the bra it covered. When he had freed her tits, he began devouring one while teasing the other between his fingers. Now it was Nzinga's turn to give a moan of pleasure as Data's mouth went from one nipple to the other while his hand kneaded the opposite breast.

Data disengaged his hands from her breasts, used one to grab the back of her head and pull her towards him for a serious game of tonsil hockey while his other worked its way back down her body. After he squeezed her luscious, firm, full, brown ass, his hand began to gather up her skirt to stimulate the delights it hid. Nzinga was now grinding deeply against him, her own need building, and he could sense his precum moistening his underwear. Data snaked his hand up her skirt and thigh to caress her Holy of Holies through her panties when he encountered…nothing. His fingers had encountered her intense moistness directly and it shocked him. He broke the kiss and opened his eyes and stared at her in surprise. Nzinga didn't know how she did it, with his fingers perched **there** though unmoving, but she held her control, looked at him and gave him the most devious smile. Data's face was precious. His look of shock dissolved into realization and into a beatific grin.

Nzinga shifted herself further down his body and unsealed his uniform pants. His cock immediately jumped out at her as if it had been in on the whole plan all along. Nzinga would have loved to caress it, kiss it, worship it for a while but time was of the essence here. She scooted further up his body, rose up on her knees, took his cock in her hand and guided it into her as she slid down, enveloping herself around it. Data held onto her hips as she began moving up and down, up and down. He was exposed, then encased in wet, tight warmth. The contrast in sensations spiked in his neural net. He let out moans, groans, incoherent cries to various deities no one had worshipped for hundreds of years. He called her name which goaded her to squirm with him inside her and work her walls to massage him.

*Thank Gods for Kegels!*

He began to buck his hips in order to come up and meet her when she descended onto him, trying to get as deep into her as possible.

Nzinga was on her own sexual high right now. Her head arched back, eyes closed tight against the onslaught of pleasure. She was thoroughly enjoying Data inside her, but the point of all this was not simply for them to get off. She lowered her head and opened her eyes. What met her gaze was Data, eyes shut, face wearing an expression of one lost in ectasy and the effort to produce it, mouth emitting sounds like a valve releasing pressure to stave off blowing the tank.

Nzinga swallowed to wet her panting-dried throat and as evenly as she could muster said, "Data! Data, open your eyes and look at me, baby!" with a lust-husky voice.

His eyes snapped open at that. He loved when she called him "baby." She was looking at him intently though her pupils were clearly dialated from passion making her dark, coffee-brown eyes look nearly Betazoid black. He stopped moving, wondering what she wanted.

"I'm here. All of me. I'm with you now in this place, in this moment. Now it's just us. No one else. Nothing else. Do you understand me?"

Data's face registered many emotions at once, passion, physical lust, love, astonishment, understanding, resolution, relief, connection. In other words, he got it. As an answer, he lunged upward, deep inside her, eyes closed tightly against the wonderful battery of physical and emotional sensations. Nzinga began to ride him in true earnest goaded by Data's android hands gripping her hips fast and driving her down harder and faster onto him as his body reached up to meet hers. Every now and then, they'd look at each other smiling at the new bit of mutual understanding established between them. Sweat pooled between her thighs mixing with her juices making all slippery where their bodies met. Nzinga felt the tension build and build in her loins, hot like fire and slick like oil. Her fingers began to grab at and dig into the fabric on Data's uniform tunic. Soon the tension became a flood that burst her dam and overran its confines. She felt her center pulse as if it had its own heartbeat. She felt so full of him so satisfied, so complete. When he felt her clench all around him, moving up and down his cock in gripping waves, he let himself go, spilling himself into her in one final lunge. A cry of intense release issued from his throat. His sensors overloaded with messages of extreme pleasure and happiness.

When the rush subsided for both of them, Nzinga lifted herself off of Data and put him back to rights. She fastened her bra, zipped up her shirt, tucked it back into her voluminous skirt, and stretched herself back on top of a very contented, android Science Officer.

As Data enfolded her in his arms, he had that wonderful, slightly goofy smile on his face that just called to Nzinga to cover it with kisses which she did when he said, using a colloquialism from her time, "We shall have to do lunch more often."

Data got Geordi's results back to him in good order, though the Chief of Engineering wondered why it took an extra 42.28 minutes over the estimation Data had given him for the task.

Nzinga, went back to her quarters, subjected herself to a sonic shower due to time constraints, changed back into the clothes she'd worn to work and managed to get back to Twelve Forward with enough time to gulp down some Ertherian Nutrient Tea so she wouldn't crash later that shift. She'd have to eat a hearty dinner for the workout she was sure Data had planned for her once she got off her shift.


End file.
